


Pure Morning

by stopmopingstarthoping



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Boot Worship, Consensual Kink, F/M, Floor Sex, Fluff, HighSpecs, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Safewords, Stepping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 12:19:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14332338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmopingstarthoping/pseuds/stopmopingstarthoping
Summary: Aranea finds Ignis' boots in his closet, and he's quite pleased with the result.





	Pure Morning

Aranea ran her hands over the smooth leather, and her fingers traced the metal of the buckles and the coarse laces. They were gorgeous, and she'd been drawn to them since the first time she'd seen Ignis wearing the uniform. She wasn't sure what had drawn her to Ignis’ closet this morning, but it wouldn't be the first time she had borrowed something.  

The boots were quite tall, stretching the length of Ignis’ long shins, the protective panel at the top overlapping his knee. She found herself wondering where they would reach on her own leg. True to form, Ignis had impeccably cleaned and polished them before putting them away. 

Aranea loosened the laces, undid the buckles, and slid her naked foot inside. She wiggled her toes, feeling the places where the boot had been worn to Ignis’ footprint.  She thought of him delivering a fierce kick to an enemy with the formidable tread on the bottom, and imagined him striding through the Citadel with the metal glinting in the sun. 

Sitting on the floor next to the bed, she stretched her leg out and looked to the side at the full-length mirror. The boot reached a few inches above her knee, and she smiled.  The foot was too big, of course, but not ridiculously so. Aranea had always had rather large feet for her height. She tightened the laces and snapped the buckles, and did the same with the other boot. The morning chill made her grab the jacket she'd slung over Ignis’ chair the night before. It made for a pretty good look, actually, she thought to herself. 

She was standing in front of the mirror, wearing just her leather jacket, the black panties she'd slept in, and the boots, when Ignis returned from his Saturday morning trip to the market. She heard him bustle to put things away in the kitchen, and then come upstairs to find her. 

Ignis stopped in the doorway, and several parts of his body jumped at once. His breath quickened as she turned toward him. She noticed his reaction, and the flush that began to stain his cheeks. A slow smile eased its way across her face.

“Do you want to touch?”

He just looked at her, his pale green gaze burning with want and challenge.  The corner of his lips curved almost imperceptibly.

She walked slowly toward him, an aggressive swing to her hips. “Or… do you want me to touch you?” 

He looked at her again, and nodded wordlessly. Aranea's eyes were almost fathomless, surface-level amusement giving way to something more primal. She hummed in satisfaction.  “We haven't talked about this one. You like it though, don't you?” 

With one finger, Aranea pushed Ignis’ shoulder down until he was kneeling in front of her, sitting back on his feet.  He exhaled, trying but failing to keep his breaths even. He felt his heart beating in his neck. 

Aranea's booted toe prodded at his leg, and he shifted uncomfortably. The sight of her had made him hard, and her reaction to his… enjoyment of the situation made him throb.  She saw it, and she nudged him with the toe of a boot, pressing the reinforced metal firmly into his crotch. He was a bit astounded at his intense response to this, but Aranea seemed delighted.  

She lifted her foot higher and propped her foot on his shoulder, pressing the sole flat against him. Ignis’ gaze traveled up her leg, over the familiar boot to where it met her creamy skin. His fingers reached up to caress her, but the evil little grin Aranea gave him made him reconsider, and his fingers faltered and settled back onto his leg.  He swallowed. 

Aranea bent her upper body forward, her boot still flush against his shoulder. Ignis had to tense against her to resist being pushed over.  Her chuckle was low and slightly sinister. She leaned her face close to his, grabbed his chin between her thumb and forefinger, and whispered, “Breakfast can wait, yes?”  Ignis nodded again. 

In a flash, she snatched his glasses and kicked him onto his back. He never quite forgot that she was just as vicious a warrior as he was, and the way she harnessed that ferocity to direct it at him was irresistible. Distantly, he heard the light clink of his eyeglasses being set carefully onto a table somewhere. 

She pressed a boot into his thigh.  “Let me hear you. Are you enjoying this?” She knew he was, but it was fun to make him admit it. 

“Yes,” Ignis breathed. His chest rose and fell a bit faster as he looked up at her. 

Aranea leaned on him a bit harder. “Do you like it when I step on you with your own boots?”

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and he let out a small sound. Then he nodded again. 

“Louder, please.” She twisted her foot and ground in harder. 

“Yes,” the first word was almost a yelp, “yes, I like it.  Very much.”

“Mmm, you're fun.” He lay where she'd kicked him, flat on his back. She sat on his ribcage, just too high to give him any sort of friction, though she could feel him squirming behind her. Aranea propped a foot on the middle of Ignis’ chest. “You can touch. Just the boot.”

His fingers ran over the leather reverently, the familiar patterns fitting quite differently on Aranea's legs. He traveled up the length of the boot, and pulled his head up to meet her eyes, his gaze full of fire. Ignis’ fingertips teased at the skin near the top of the boot. It was soft, and he laid his head back down and groaned softly, wanting more. 

“Aww. You were doing so well,” she said with mock pity. Her tone shifted lower. “I said, only the boot.” She turned his head to the side with her toe. Still sitting on him, she pressed the thick tread into his cheek, and he gasped. Her foot ground into a sharp cheekbone. 

“Still green?” Aranea asked quietly. She heard another light gasp from him, and he lifted a hand into her line of sight to give her a thumbs-up. She laughed. “Good. You look gorgeous like this, you know.”  She leaned back and reached behind her to touch the cock she knew she'd find straining in his pants. She gave it a firm squeeze, and watched his body tense in response. He groaned beautifully under her foot, and she watched the muscles in his neck and chest stand out. 

Carefully, putting most of her weight on her left leg, she stood up, her right foot still planted on Ignis’ face. As she'd predicted, he enjoyed the visual. His eyes surveyed her as much as they could with his head wrenched to the side. 

Aranea had grown warm, and she shucked her jacket off, letting it fall to the floor. She watched Ignis’ fingers flex by his sides.

“You want to touch me now, don't you?”  Her breasts swung freely above him.

“I do.” The words pushed out of his throat hoarsely. 

Aranea moved her foot down to step on his neck, and another word rasped below her.

“Yellow.”  

Immediately, she picked up her foot again to place it back on his chest, waiting for a response.  She searched his face.  He breathed. “Green.”

"Yeah?" He nodded.  

She grinned, one foot still atop him like he was some sort of trophy. Meeting his eyes, she lightly stroked herself through her panties.  “Too bad you can't feel what you do to me. I'm so wet already, just looking at you.”  

He struggled against her foot, giving her a bit of a show, really, but forcing her to press down a bit harder to keep him pinned. Her eyes gleamed.

“If you're good, I'll let you take these off me.”  She lifted the boot and wiggled it at him, then knelt beside him to kiss him deeply. Her hands were planted on either side of his head, and her hair draped around them to brush the floor.

“I'd rather you left them on, please.” His words hissed around their kiss.

Aranea sat back and slid a hand into her panties. “Why are you still dressed?”  She bit her lip and stroked herself as she watched him sit up, unbutton his shirt, and pull off his pants in quick, agitated movements.  

Fully naked, he crawled across the floor toward her.  She slid her panties off, and when they became trapped around the feet of the boots, he yanked the sheer fabric hard, tossing them behind him. Aranea's eyes flicked over to the large, comfortable bed next to them. “Don't you want to -?”

“No. Here.” Ignis spread his fingers against the side of her face, pulling her toward him and asking for her mouth, and she gave it to him. She climbed onto his lap, and his tongue slid past her lips.  She wrapped her legs around him and guided him inside her. She'd meant it - watching him writhe beneath her had made her slick and eager. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Aranea ground down onto Ignis as he thrust up into her. One of his hands grabbed her ass, and the other grabbed her still-booted calf and pulled it against him. She remembered they were in front of the mirror and looked over to watch their hips roll together. She rocked, slowly, and he dragged his mouth against her shoulder, looking for more skin contact.  She shuddered and threw her head back, drawn into his mood of sensual bliss.

He hooked his fingers into the top of the boot, touching her skin, as she moved faster against him.  His choppy breaths puffed against her hair. Aranea's thighs quivered, and she moaned, a low, rasping sound. Ignis felt it vibrate against him as his lips and tongue moved over her neck. 

As their movements became rougher, Ignis bent his head to swirl his tongue around her nipple, a delicate contrast to their increasing pace. Her moans raised in pitch and became interspersed with curses, Ignis’ name, and small, incomprehensible syllables. Ignis never heard these near-pleading tones from Aranea outside their intimate moments, and they made his breath hitch and his thrusts grow erratic and faster. 

He grit his teeth and willed himself to hold out until he felt her walls clench around him. He grasped her hips and pulled her down onto him. Pleasure rippled outward from where they were joined to tingle over damp skin.  Aranea swore a final time, and she felt him pulse into her. They rode it out together, savoring, before she found Ignis’ mouth again. She kissed him sweetly this time, around breathy pants that gradually slowed. She climbed off him gently and gave a small sigh as he slid out of her.  They sat, backs propped against the side of the bed. 

She looked over at him. “Interesting. Apparently the treads of your boots have little swords in them.”  Her finger touched the tiny red marks on his cheek. 

“What? Oh for the -” Ignis leapt up and knelt in front of the mirror, twisting his face back and forth and groaning with dread. “Bloody hell. This had better fade by Monday. “  Or it would be glaringly obvious to everyone at the Citadel that he'd spent the weekend being stepped on by his own boots. 

Aranea just laughed.  “You'll be fine. You know we've covered up worse.”

Ignis smiled weakly in response but gave the mirror another worried glance. “I'm going to need all your tricks, Aranea.”

She cackled and stretched her arms overhead. “Oh, you still haven't even discovered  _ all _ of my tricks.  What's for breakfast?  I'm starving.”


End file.
